


Snow and Pheonix Feathers

by boredomsMuse



Series: October Prompts [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Gen, Kinda, Protectiveness, Snow, Snowed In, Vampires, Werewolves, also kinda - Freeform, look marley is a good boy and i love him, parental character, pheonix, pheonix feather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26772640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredomsMuse/pseuds/boredomsMuse
Summary: No one should be wandering around a snow storm, especially not when they're underdressed for the weather.  Marley can get away with it, because he's already dead.  The werewolf cub he stumbles upon?  They can not.
Relationships: vampire & werewolf
Series: October Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951741
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Snow and Pheonix Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Vampire/Werewolf. I choose both. You can see the sketch that goes along with this on my art insta, link is within [this link of links. ](https://linktr.ee/kailsmusings)
> 
> The concept of this story is about a vampire (Marley) who gets taken in by a pack of werewolves. He settles in quite well until a few years later when a witch and a new magical creature show up in town, unaware that they've been followed.  
> This scene is pre-story, showing why Marley was adopted into the pack.
> 
> Please Enjoy!

While, technically, what Marley was doing could be considered ‘walking’, it was better described as ‘stumbling’. Perhaps, if you’re feeling nice, you could call it ‘mindless wandering’. Although, to be perfectly accurate, you would probably call it ‘absolute insanity’ what with the state of Marley’s surroundings. 

If Marley were human, you’d have a point. Walking, stumbling, or mindless wandering through a snowstorm is insanity. Especially when all Marley is wearing for protection is a scarf and a sweater, the kind of scarf and sweater that’s made for a mildly chilly day. Not a snowstorm.

However Marley isn’t human. He’s dead. And has been for a while. The cold isn’t likely to bother a dead man. 

What’s bothering him more is the fact that he’s a dead man. Which really shouldn’t be bothering him, because he’s been a dead man for a few centuries now. But sometimes, when you’re stumbling through a snowstorm without so much as shivering, being dead just happens to bother you. It’s a rather depressing thing to be bothered by, but Marley isn’t exactly loaded with things to think about right now.

At least he isn’t… until he hears a sniffle.

“Hello?” Marley calls into the white abyss, frowning. Straining his ears, Marley waits for a response. One minute. Two minutes.  _ There _ . His eyes immediately dart to the source of the sniffling. From afar the source just looks like a lump of snow on top of lumps of snow but as Marley draws closer he realizes the lump is shivering.

“Hey there, you alright?” Marley asks the lump, kneeling and starting to brush snow away. The lump scrambles away, as best as they can in their half-froze state. The movement dislodges the snow coating them and Marley isn’t surprised to see a child.

He is surprised to see the ears atop the child’s head, and the bushy tail behind them.

“S-stay away.” The child manages, still sniffling. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Marley promises. “You’re cold, aren’t you? I can help.”

“No you can’t.” The child argues, shaking his head. “You’re a vampire. My family says vampires are cold, because they’re dead, and they eat werewolves that get lost.” The child continues, likely repeating a bedtime story. A grim one, perhaps, but Marley remembers a time when all bedtime stories were grim. Cautionary tales to keep children out of dangerous places. Humans have largely moved on from the practice. Werewolves, it seems, have not.

“I’m a special vampire.” He claims, because he knows better than to say all vampires are safe. They aren’t. 

“You are?” The child asks, button noses scrunching up. “So you’re not cold?”

“I’m a little cold. But I know a trick to be warm.” That makes the child pause. Marley would really rather the child just trust him, at this rate they’re going to freeze to death. “Here, you can have my scarf. Vampires can’t eat someone that’s wearing a scarf.” He lies, unwrapping the fabric from his neck. 

“They can’t?” The child repeats, cautiously.

“Of course not. I can’t eat you if I can’t see your neck, right?” Marley says, holding out the clothing. After another moment’s hesitation, the child snatches the scarf. Only once it’s wrapped tightly around their neck do they brave drawing closer. 

“What’s your trick?” They ask. Their still shivering, arms wrapped tight around their side as they kneel across from Marley.

“I’ll show you.” Marley assures. He pulls a locket out from under his sweater.

“That smells like magic.” The child comments, nose scrunching again. It’s an impressive nose, even for a werewolf, to be able to smell the magic locked inside.

“It’s very powerful magic.” Marley confirms. He hesitates, only a moment, as he swears at the locket. Nikon had handed it to him decades ago, only to be used in an emergency. A werewolf child freezing to death was probably not the emergency Nikon had in mind. Or maybe it was, who knew with him. Either way, Marley was sure he wouldn’t mind.

Flicking the locket open, the necklace immediately disappeared. In its place laid a single feather.

“What’s that?” The child is pressing into his space now, previous concern gone as he shares. 

“A phoenix feather.” Marley answers. “Sit back.” He warns before whispering a spell. The feather immediately comes to life, floating above his hand and giving off as much heat as a regular-sized campfire. 

“Wow.” The child breaths before snuggling into Marley’s side, getting as close as they can to the blazing feather.

“I told you I knew a trick.” Marley smiles. He keeps the feather a safe distance from the child, well aware that it will burn if given the chance. It’s odd, Marley’s always thought, that a phoenix feather burns the living and not the dead. Weren’t phoenixes all about burning after death? Then again, he wouldn’t want to end up like Nikon does.

“Can you tell me a story?” The child requests, once more jolting Marley from his less than content thoughts.

“A story?” Marley repeats, turning to raise an eyebrow at the child. They’re still staring into the feather, although their eyes have started to drop.

“Someone always tells me a story at bedtime.” The child elbroates. Amused, Marley gives in, telling a story the way humans do these days. A happy story, with no secret message. It only takes a few minutes for Marley to have a sleeping werewolf leaning against his side. 

Now would be a good time to leave, he thinks. Dig out a careful space for the feather and vanish before the pack finds their missing cub curled up with a vampire.

But it seems too dangerous to Marley. What if the snow worsens and the feather is buried? What if the child rolls onto the fire? He can’t risk that. He’ll just have to run when he hears the pack coming, and hope they don’t bother chasing him.

Marley does not hear the pack coming, having curled up with the child and fallen asleep. 

Thankfully, it goes much better than he expected.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, maybe check out [this link of links ](https://linktr.ee/kailsmusings) for art and other things! Thanks for reading!


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